


my love for you (was always sure)

by hanyolo



Category: The Newsroom (US TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s02e06 One Step Too Many, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:00:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24078628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanyolo/pseuds/hanyolo
Summary: He’s leaning against the doorframe, watching her with a look she can’t quite place. It almost feels like the way he used to look at her. Before. She shakes her head to get rid of that thought before it can give her even the slightest bit of hope.“I thought leaving intoxicated voicemails was my thing,” is all he says.“It can’t be your thing,” she begins quietly, clears her throat. “Because I never actually heard yours.” // It's Mac's turn to pour her heart out over drunken voicemail
Relationships: Will McAvoy/MacKenzie McHale
Comments: 16
Kudos: 36





	my love for you (was always sure)

**Author's Note:**

> So this basically diverts from canon mid-episode, obviously. Not written for the newsroom before but I recently started watching it then subsequently binge watched the whole thing several times, so this was fun. Anyway, hope people are actually still in this fandom and hope you enjoy!

Don helps her into a cab sometime after midnight with the promise of doing this again sometime. This being getting drunk together at Hang Chew’s on a weeknight. It had been fun - surprisingly fun, and MacKenzie really can’t remember the last time she enjoyed herself like this. Especially not with all the stress of Genoa and Jerry Dantana. And don’t get her started on Will dating Nina fucking Howard. She had meant what she said about trusting Don. He really has become one of her closest friends even if she now has to deal with both Don and Sloan complaining about each other to her while remaining completely oblivious to the others feelings. 

Mac is definitely more drunk than she realises but she somehow manages to make it out of the cab and up to her apartment. She kicks her shoes off as soon as she’s in the door, makes her way to the kitchen. Only to find a near empty fridge.  
Grumbling to herself, she pours herself a glass of wine and then (this is when she knows she’s drunk) orders a pizza from the place around the corner. She knows they’ll deliver to her quickly because she’s pretty sure the delivery guy has a crush on her and she’s not above using this to her advantage. 

Maybe this is how she’ll meet someone, she muses. She had told Don that she goes out, but she doesn’t really. She’ll maybe go to Hang Chew’s with the staff once a week but that’s about it. She used to go out with Will once every couple of weeks. Not to Hang Chew’s, somewhere nicer where the rest of the staff couldn’t afford to drink, where they knew they wouldn’t be interrupted. Then he had started dating Nina and it was like they’d taken five steps backwards. 

So, yes, Mac supposes. She really has no way of meeting anyone unless it’s through work or food delivery. She orders takeaway often enough that the chances of that happening are actually pretty high. 

_You’ll meet someone._ That’s what Don had told her. The only problem is she’s not sure she wants to meet someone. Don’t get her wrong, she wishes she did, wishes she could get over Will and accept that he’s moved on. But she can’t. It’s reaching the point where she imagines she’ll be alone forever, still picturing the life she could have had with Will McAvoy. And forever bitter about the life she ended up with. 

Before she can really think about it, MacKenzie has her phone up to her ear, waiting for Will to answer. It goes to voicemail and she hesitates for half a second before leaving a message. 

.

Will can hear his phone buzzing somewhere. He’s out on the balcony, whiskey in one hand, cigarette in the other. He lets his phone ring out, too buzzed to deal with whoever is calling him right now. (It doesn’t cross his mind that it could be Mac. Their late night phone calls had stopped as soon as he’d taken Nina to dinner the first time.)

Nina had left sometime before midnight. He hadn’t asked her to leave but he hadn’t exactly asked her to stay either. He might feel bad about it if he could even begin to fathom the idea of going on dayside. He likes Nina, he does. She’s beautiful and smart and funny. But they’re rarely on the same page and he’s not sure they get each other. Not like he and MacKenzie used to. (Probably still do if he’s being honest.) He can’t tell what she’s thinking just by looking at her, he doesn’t gravitate towards her when they’re in the same room. They’re comfortable to an extent but it’s not easy. He knows he should break up with her, that he’s not being fair to her. But at least when he’s with her he can pretend, just for a couple of hours, that he isn’t irrevocably in love with MacKenzie McHale. 

Will stubs out his cigarette, reaches out to grab his phone. When he sees a missed call and voicemail from Mac, it’s almost enough to dull his buzz. So he downs the rest of his drink and hits play on the voicemail. 

“Will? Hi. It’s me. MacKenzie.” 

He can tell straight away that she’s drunk, his mouth turning up at the sides as she slurs her words.

“I was out with Don. You know Don? Anyway, we were drinking. He’s a nice guy, we had fun. It was -“ She stops for a moment, clearly lost in thought. “Fun. He told me I should go out. You’ll meet someone, he said. The thing is, Will,” her voice softens and Will swears his heart stops in his chest. “I don’t want to meet someone. I just want you. And I know you’ve moved on and I know you can’t forgive me. But I just wanted you to know. Because I love you. Never stopped, don’t think I ever will. God, I’m so in love with you,” she says so softly, almost like a whisper. Then there’s a couple of seconds of silence and, “oh, my pizza’s here.”

The message cuts out and Will, pretty sure he hasn’t taken a breath since she mentioned what Don had said, exhales shakily. MacKenzie loves him. MacKenzie is in love with him. Does this mean the ball’s in his court? He supposes it has been from the start. She’s hardly hidden her feelings, made it very clear that she’s been giving him time and space to forgive her. Has he forgiven her? Fuck, this is complicated. 

Yes, he loves her. Yes, he’s in love with her. But can he trust her? He’s not even surprised when his mind supplies one word. _Yes._ He trusts her, no question. He thinks back to the past couple of months. The late night phone calls, the nights they would go for drinks without the rest of the staff, how she is always the first person he goes to for advice or with a problem. Figures he should’ve gone to her tonight, still not completely sold on Nina’s advice. 

Will pours himself another drink, lights another cigarette. He won’t phone Mac back tonight. She’s probably passed out over her pizza by this point. (And he hates that he still knows her well enough to know that she’ll have taken the pizza into bed with her and will be mad about it in the morning.) He loves her and he trusts her and he has another nine or so hours to decide if he’s forgiven her. 

.

Mac wakes up to a splitting headache. A glance at the clock tells her it’s fifteen minutes after her alarm should have gone off. Groaning, she slowly pushes herself up into a sitting position. She’s still half dressed from the night before and, goddammit, there’s half a pizza in the bed beside her. She’s not entirely sure how it got there. She remembers drinking with Don, she remembers Don buying them shots, and she remembers Don helping (forcing) her into a taxi. But she can’t really remember much beyond that. Cursing drunk Mac, she tentatively gets out of bed, prays that a shower will cure her hangover. 

It doesn’t. But it helps a little bit. Although she figures that’s probably because she’s no longer wearing yesterday’s make-up. She tries to have some toast for breakfast. Manages two bites before she has to throw up. 

She doesn’t remember the last time she was this hungover. Even when she first came home, when she was still in denial about the stabbing, her lack of job, her PTSD. Back when Charlie found her drunk in a bowling alley. The reason she was never hungover, her mind helpfully supplies, was because she would start her day with a drink. She’s relieved that the though of doing that this morning just makes her feel even more sick. 

She’s late for work. It’s not her fault really. The cab had to pull over while she dry heaved onto the streets of New York (not her finest moment, yet also not her worst) and, after the third time, the cabbie had been reluctant to take her any further. So she’d walked the last five blocks, stopping every so often to steady herself and also dropping by her favourite coffee place. 

Maggie is by her side as soon as she enters the newsroom, talking away about someone Tess had been talking to on the phone. And then Neal’s at her other side, handing her a file and talking over Maggie about whatever it is he’s been doing this morning. 

“Maggie,” Mac interrupts. “I need painkillers and water. Badly.”

“Okay-“ Maggie draws out, knitting her brows in concern. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Mac insists, turning to Neal once she has gone. 

“Neal,” she begins, glancing at her watch to check how long she has before the rundown meeting. She looks back at him, then at her watch again. Squints her eyes as she tries to make out what it says. “Is this a matter of national security? Life or death? Will we be kicking ourselves if another network covers this before us?”

“No, but-“

“Then I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

She’s almost made it to her office, managing to avoid Jerry Dantana who has been inching closer to her since the moment she arrived, when Jim calls over to her. 

“Rundown meeting?”

Mac looks at the time on her phone now. It’s much easier to make out than the tiny numbers on her watch. It’s ten past; the meeting should’ve started already. 

“Rundown meeting.” She turns around, makes her way over to the meeting room. “Rundown meeting,” she calls out meekly, hoping everyone will just use common sense and follow her. 

Maggie arrives with water and painkillers just as they’re ready to start the meeting and Mac has never been more grateful to see her. She takes two pills, washes them down with half a bottle of water. Thankfully her stomach seems to have settled. 

“Does anyone know where Will is?” MacKenzie asks. 

“He’s appearing on ACN Morning,” Tess tells her, not trying very hard to hide her smirk. 

Mac frowns, “like, as a guest? Who’s bullshit idea was that?”

The meeting isn’t great. MacKenzie can barely focus on what is being said and she’s starting to feel nauseous again. Thankfully, Jim steps up to lead the meeting without making it obvious that he is taking over from her. Until halfway through when her headache comes back worse than ever and she starts to feel like she literally might die. Everyone turns to look at her as she abruptly stands up, grips the edge of the table until the nausea passes. 

“Mac?” Jim places a hand under her elbow and he sounds so concerned that she can’t help but feel like she’s about to disappoint him. 

“What I’m about to say doesn’t leave this room,” Mac tells them, looking at each of them individually. They all look partially terrified, partially concerned and she almost feels bad for them. “I am so hungover,” she announces with a whine. “Beyond hungover. I have never felt this bad in my life.” Jim opens his mouth to speak and she waves her hand to cut him off. “Yes, I know. I was stabbed. But that was nothing compared to what I am feeling today.”

The staff are looking at her, now with a mixture of surprise and amusement on their faces, and it annoys her when she realises that they’re all probably young enough that their hangovers barely affect them. 

“Do you need anything?” Jim asks. 

“Yes. I need you to finish this meeting. I’m going to my office. Jim’s in charge this morning.” She waves her hand in his direction, doesn’t bother to gather her things as she makes her way to the door. “Go to him with all your problems.”

.

Appearing on dayside was approximately a thousand times worse than Will ever could’ve envisioned. What the fuck had Nina been thinking? What the fuck had he been thinking? He should’ve gone to Mac with his crisis of confidence. She always (98% of the time) says the right thing. And he trusts her judgment more than he ever trusted Nina. Nina, his now ex-girlfriend. He almost feels bad about the way things ended and then he remembers that, because of her, he has just humiliated himself on live television. So, no. He doesn’t feel bad. He actually feels really good about it. 

Figuring he’s moped in Charlie’s office for long enough, Will heads back to the newsroom. He also figures it’s time he stops avoiding MacKenzie and work out what he’s going to say to her. 

_I love you but I need more time._

_I love you but I’ll never get over this._

It’s guaranteed to be one of the two, he just hopes he can figure it out before he’s standing in front of her. 

Will is three feet from Mac’s office when Maggie jumps in front of him. He would laugh at the look on her face, as though she can’t believe she’s just done that to him, if he weren’t so anxious to speak to MacKenzie. 

“I wouldn’t,” Maggie says. Sheepishly, she continues, “Go in there, I mean. Jim’s in charge this morning.”

“Why?”

“Oh. Um, I-“ It’s clear she hasn’t thought this through and he’s about to stare her down until she tells him the truth, when he looks over her shoulder through the glass door of Mac’s office. 

MacKenzie’s slumped over her desk, head in her arms, fast asleep. Her lips move as she mumbles something, a slight frown on her face, then she nuzzles her face into the bend of her elbow. Will is all too aware of Maggie looking at him, trying not to grin at the dopey look on his face. But he doesn’t care, because something in him just _shifts_ , and he knows he’s all in. 

“Okay,” he says quietly, eyes still on Mac. “Leave her be.”

.

Don comes barging into her office sometime after lunch, deposits a paper bag and two coffees on her desk. He raps his knuckles on the desk beside her head until her eyes flutter open. 

Groaning, MacKenzie rubs her eyes as she sits up. She yawns, reaches out for the coffee gratefully. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep but she can’t deny that she feels a lot better. However, she really hopes that none of the staff caught her napping. It’s bad enough that she announced her hangover in the middle of a rundown meeting that she then left. 

“You’re chipper,” she comments bitterly as Don drops into the seat across from her. 

“I didn’t do as many shots as you,” he reminds her. 

Taking a sip of her coffee, she closes her eyes against the harsh light coming in from the window. 

“I really don’t remember much past the first round of tequila,” she admits. “How did I do more than you? That hardly seems fair.”

Don reaches into the paper bag, pulls out two sandwiches. He hands her one and starts to unwrap the other himself. 

“By the time we were on the third shot,” he tells her, amused if not somewhat sheepish, “ I thought I was going to be sick. So you called me a pussy and drank them both.”

Mac laughs at that, brings one hand up to cover her mouth. 

“Oh God,” she says between giggles. “I did say that, didn’t I? I’m sorry.”

He’s laughing too now and, not for the first time, does she wish she had spent time with Don outside of work before now. “Don’t be. It was nice to see you having fun.”

They eat in silence for a while, Mac not quite trusting her stomach yet and taking her time, Don taking the opposite approach and wolfing his down. He tosses a napkin in her direction and, laughing, she uses it to wipe some mayonnaise off her chin. Sandwich finished, Don reaches into the bag again and pulls out two bags of potato chips, leaves one on the desk for her. 

“Do you remember” he begins, opening his chips and putting one in his mouth. “Leaving me a hilarious voicemail last night?”

“I did?” Mac dabs at her mouth with the napkin, reaches for her coffee. 

“You went into great detail about the pizza you ordered. And the delivery guy. I think you were eating it in bed? Anyway-“

He’s still talking, making fun of her for leaving him a five minute message about pizza, but she can’t hear him anymore. She’s remembering something, maybe to do with her pizza? Or her bed? Or-

“Voicemail,” she mutters, eyes wide and face pale. 

Don stops talking, “what?”

“Voicemail,” she repeats as the memory comes back to her. Don’s not the only person she left a voicemail for. Shit. 

She doesn’t think she’s seen Will today. (There was a rough hour this morning where she genuinely can’t remember who she spoke to or what was said. Although she’s pretty certain she would remember seeing the man to whom she drunkenly confessed her undying love.) Vaguely remembers someone saying something about him being on the ACN Morning. Which sounds so insane she wouldn’t be surprised if her hungover brain had made that up. Should she go and find him? Surely he would have sought her out by now if he wanted to talk to her? And that’s assuming he even got the voicemail. She realises she’s not said anything for a full minute and that Don is looking at her with increasing concern. 

Mac leans forward in her seat, arms resting on the desk in front of her. Don leans in closer, waits for her to speak. 

“I left Will a voicemail last night,” she tells him, voice barely above a panicked whisper. 

Don raises an eyebrow, leans back in his chair. “I assume it wasn’t about your pizza?”

“Unless pizza is a euphemism for telling someone you love them and begging them to forgive you, then no.”

“It is not.”

She’s about to start freaking out, a full-scale, level ten MacKenzie McHale freak out when Don speaks again. 

“He broke up with Nina, you know? This morning. Apparently it was her idea for him to appear on dayside and, I don’t know if you’ve seen the footage yet, but it’s awful, in a too fucking tragic to look away way.”

And that does make Mac feel slightly better, even if his reasons for breaking up with Nina had nothing to do with her and everything to do with his terrible self-esteem and insecurities. 

“That’s what he gets for going to someone else for advice,” she says, almost haughtily. Because she’ll never admit this out loud, but the thing that hurt the most when Will started dating Nina, was that he apparently didn’t need her anymore, that he was quite happy to get advice and guidance elsewhere. It made her wonder if she had ever really gained his trust again. 

“Have you asked Sloan out yet?” Mac asks then, desperate to think about something that isn’t Will freaking McAvoy. 

.

Will doesn’t get a chance to speak to her until after the second rundown meeting. And even then he has to chase her down. She’d been first to leave the meeting, claiming to have a meeting with graphics that he knows isn’t for another hour. He dodges the staff, ignoring at least four people saying his name, as he follows her. He’s not entirely surprised when she ends up in Sloan’s office. Sloan, he knows, is in a meeting with Elliot, Don and Charlie, and MacKenzie must know this too, otherwise she wouldn’t be hiding out here. He vaguely wonders how often she’s used someone else’s office to avoid people. (To avoid him.)

MacKenzie moves around the desk to sit in Sloan’s seat, nearly jumps out her skin when she sees him. 

“Jesus, Will,” she gasps, bringing one hand up to her chest. She tucks the chair back in, walks back around the desk and perches on the edge. “Is there a reason you’re sneaking up on me?”

He's leaning against the doorframe, watching her with a look she can’t quite place. It almost feels like the way he used to look at her. _Before._ She shakes her head to get rid of that thought before it can give her even the slightest bit of hope. 

“I thought leaving intoxicated voicemails was my thing,” is all he says. 

Mac tenses, bites her bottom lip as she looks anywhere but at him. 

“It can’t be your thing,” she begins quietly, clears her throat. “Because I never actually heard yours.”

She looks up at him now and Will feels like his heart is about to burst from his chest. If he wasn’t 100% sure earlier, he is now. And not just because her hair is mussed on one side from her desktop nap and it’s just about the cutest thing he’s ever seen. 

“Hey, Mac,” he says. She looks confused but he just pushes off the doorframe to pull the door closed behind him. “It’s me. Look, I’m not just saying this because I’m high-“ he pauses now, moves until he is standing in front of her. She looks less confused now but still worried, so he gently tilts her head up, runs his thumb along her cheek bone before dropping his hand. He doesn’t break eye contact as he says, “I’ve never stopped loving you. You were spectacular tonight. - then I pause, and I say, can you believe we got Obama?”

MacKenzie’s eyes well up with tears and her bottom lip starts to tremble. 

“You’re an idiot,” she says, but she’s smiling too and he can hear affection in her voice. “If you’d told me this months ago-“

“I wasn’t ready months ago,” he admits softly. 

“And now?” She asks him nervously.

“Now? I’m all in.”

Mac’s breath catches and the tears she’d been holding at bay start to fall, but she doesn’t care because Will kisses her then. And it feels every bit as good as she remembered, yet somehow better. She wraps one arm around his neck, holding him against her, runs the other along his back until her fingers tangle in his sweater. Jumping up slightly so she is sitting on the desk, Mac opens her legs slightly to allow Will to stand between them. He groans against her lips, mouth firm and warm against hers. One of his hands is tangled in her hair, the other on the small of her back, against the soft skin where her shirt has become untucked, and he moves it further up her back, smiles against her lips when she shivers. Mac wraps her legs around him in retaliation and he pulls away slightly, breath warm and harsh against her ear. 

“I love you,” he says, just because he can. And again because it feels so good. “I love you.” He repeats it, punctuating his words with a trail of kisses down to her neck, where he nips lightly at the spot he knows will drive her wild. She murmurs his name, fingers threading through his hair and he moves back up to kiss her again. 

“I love you,” Mac says quickly, realising she hasn’t said it yet, and she’s smiling so widely that kissing her is almost impossible. So he moves back so he can look at her, and the look she is giving him is so caring, so fond, so loving, that he’s the one holding back tears now. 

He kisses her again, and he’s trying really hard to remember that they’re at work and they should really stop soon, but this is Mac and he has a lot of time to make up for. Then she whimpers against his mouth, hands clutching at the bare skin on his back where she’s untucked his shirt, her heel digging into his ass as she tries to pull him closer, and he forgets everything but the feel of her against him. 

Of course, that’s when the door swings open. Neither of them realise at first - he had just chanced trailing one hand slowly up her stomach to cup her lace covered breast, the other resting on her thigh where her skirt has ridden up (high enough to be considered indecent) - and it’s only when Sloan exclaims, “on my goddamn desk?” that they pull apart. 

.

Sloan’s pissed off. She’s just out a meeting that she barely remembers, because Don had made some snarky comment about the footballer she had been on a date with the night before and she’d spent the whole time glowering at him. Too mad to tell him that the date hadn’t gone all that well, actually, and she doubted they would be going out again. 

Then she’d left the meeting, managing to leave before Don was even out of his seat, to find the bullpen was hectic, chaotic, frantic. Any word she could think of that meant where the fuck was Mac?

The staff seem to be asking this too. Tess, Kendra and Gary each approach her, asking if she’s seen Will or MacKenzie, voices desperate and pleading. And she can hear Maggie on the phone to someone, voice screeching as she’s clearly reached a level of stress she might not come back from. Neal and Tamara are huddled at Neal’s computer, in deep discussion about something on the screen. 

“Sloan!” Jim sounds beyond relieved to see her. “Please tell me you know where MacKenzie is? Or Will?”

He looks frazzled. His shirt has come untucked on one side, his hair looks as though he hasn’t stopped running his hand through it since Mac put him in charge 8 hours ago, and the expression on his face is one of someone who’s about to lose it. 

“Sorry, Jim,” she says with a shrug. “I’ve been in a meeting all afternoon.”

“Okay. This is fine.” His body seems to deflate as he drops into the empty seat beside Neal. He continues, sounding entirely too petulant, but Sloan thinks he’s probably earned that today. “Who cares, right? It’s just the final rundown, all we’re gonna do is decide what makes it to air. Doesn’t matter that neither the EP or the anchor have shown the slightest bit of interest today. And now they’re both fucking missing? How is this happening?”

Sloan watches him awkwardly. It’s no secret that she’s terrible with displays of emotion but that apparently does nothing to stop her colleagues from coming to her with their problems. Never mind the fact that every time her and Don seem like they’re finally on the same page, he seems to completely back off. So it’s with the knowledge that Jim absolutely should have known better than to have an emotional outburst in her vicinity, that she doesn’t really feel bad when her response is to give him a half shrug and say, “I’m sure they’ll turn up.”

This hasn’t really helped (read: hasn’t helped at all) so Sloan leaves him to his breakdown, heads back to her office, looking forward to an hours downtime before she has to prepare for the show. She’s reading something on her blackberry when she opens her office door so it takes her a minute to register what’s happening. And when she does, when she takes in the sight before her, when her eyeballs finally send the message to her brain that what’s happening is Will and MacKenzie dry humping in her office like horny teenagers, her ability to move or speak seems to leave her entirely. It’s only when she realises Will is definitely feeling up Mac’s boobs that she snaps out of it and -  
“On my goddamn desk?” 

They don’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. They pull apart slowly, Will giving MacKenzie a long look, tucking her hair behind her ear, before he finally steps back. Mac hops off the desk, casually fixes her skirt, eyes still on Will. 

“Please tell me I managed to get here in time and you haven’t actually fucked on my desk?” Sloan asks, too exasperated to deal with this shit today. (Not that she isn’t already planning to corner Mac later and demand she tell her every single tiny detail about what the fuck’s just happened.)

Will blushes bright red, but MacKenzie looks surprisingly cool. 

“Edging towards second base,” she tells Sloan, face clouded with disappointment. 

Sloan regards them for a moment, nods approvingly. “And why are you in my office again? You both have your own, bigger offices, don’t you?”

“It’s a long story,” Mac tells her with a shrug. 

“Well, Jim’s freaking out,” Sloan tells them, moving around to sit at her desk. Giving Mac a pointed look, she fixes a stack of files that had clearly been a casualty of her and Will’s secret rendezvous. Or whatever the fuck this was. “No one can find you guys and you put him in charge for some reason and he keeps saying something about the final rundown.”

Sloan turns to her computer now, opens her emails. She’s scanning the subject lines for anything that might interest her when she decides that observing Will and Mac’s interaction would definitely interest her more. 

Mac’s buttoning the rest of her blouse, giggling softly when she looks up at Will. She reaches up to comb her fingers through his hair in an attempt to tame it. He laughs, swats her hand away. 

“Hair and make-up will fix that,” he says softly, eyes crinkling at the sides. “Although, I don’t know that there’s anything that could save _your_ hair.” 

But he tries anyway, fingers gently teasing at the tangles. MacKenzie leans into his touch, eyes never leaving his as she brings her own hands up to his chest to smooth his shirt.

Sloan doesn’t think she’s ever seen either of them look this happy. It’s nauseating 

“Okay, I have to ask,” Sloan says abruptly, rolling her eyes when it becomes clear they both forgot she was there. She motions between the two of them with one hand. “What is this?”

MacKenzie’s face falls slightly when Will pulls away from her to look at Sloan, but he quickly finds her hand, intertwining their fingers. 

“We -“ Will trails off, looks at Mac with a look of nervous excitement.

And Sloan can tell the moment Will decides whatever he is about to say is a good idea. His lips turn up ever so slightly at the sides, he tilts his head then nods to himself. The last time Sloan had seen this look on his face he had ended up losing a bet with Don and wearing a ridiculous polka dot tie on air for a week, and she wonders if she should try to save him from himself. 

With bright eyes and a nervous smile he turns to fully face Mac, back now to Sloan, and says, “Marry me?”

“Whoa,” Sloan cries. “Slow your roll there, McAvoy.”

But then she realises that Mac’s eyes are welling up with tears and she’s smiling up at Will almost reverently. 

“Do you mean it?” She asks, voice trembling. 

Will places his hands on her shoulders, squeezes gently. 

“All in,” he says, voice sure and unwavering. 

And then Mac’s nodding frantically and the tears are spilling from her eyes. “Yes,” she whispers, smiling despite the tears. “ _Yes_.”

And Sloan, not quite believing what the fuck has just happened in her office on a fucking Tuesday afternoon is fully expecting to have to move office and just leave them to their crazy, spontaneous engagement celebration, when Will simply scoops Mac up in his arms and hugs her, nuzzles his face into her hair. She laughs, wraps her arms around his waist, face pressed against his shoulder. 

They’re holding each other so tightly that Sloan wouldn’t be surprised if they toppled over. They do sway slightly and they’ve turned enough that when Will pulls away to rest his forehead against Mac’s, Sloan can see that he’s got tears in his eyes and he’s looking at Mac like she hung the stars and the moon and even the freaking sun, like he can’t quite believe she’s here in front of him. 

And Sloan thinks that maybe proposing to MacKenzie in the middle of the workday after they’d just been caught making out isn’t the worst idea Will’s ever had. 

(She goes back to her emails, gives them five minutes to stare tearfully, lovingly, sappily (whatever) into each other’s eyes before she kicks them out, tells them she’s happy for them and everything but don’t they have jobs?)

.

They walk back to the bullpen in silence, every so often casting each other surreptitious glances then looking away with shy, goofy smiles. They still have a lot to talk about, Mac knows this. But that will come later. Because right now, she really needs to find Jim and put him out of his misery. (He looks like he might weep when he sees her.)

Jim’s actually done a great job today and she’s quick to tell him that.

“Thank you,” Jim says quietly, cheeks slightly pink, but she can tell he’s still annoyed. He glances around, leans in closer. “Do you think anyone would mind if I murdered Jerry freaking Dantana?”

“I would.” She gives him a reproachful look and he looks away sheepishly, hands shoved in his pockets. “If anyone gets to murder him it should be me.”

He laughs loudly and she grins at him, knows she is forgiven. 

“Let me grab something from my office and you can come with me to meet with graphics.”

Don stops MacKenzie halfway to her office, wanting her opinion on a segment for 10 o’clock. She’s reading over it when Will walks past, gently squeezes her elbow, and she can feel the blush spreading across her cheeks. She doesn’t look up from the sheet even though she can feel Don looking at her. Sighing, she finally meets his eyes, tells him quietly, “I’ll tell you later. Unless Sloan tells you first,” she adds, hands the file back to him. “This is really good.”

“Sloan’s not speaking to me,” he admits.

“Dammit, Don!” He yelps when she hits his arm. “Man up and make a move already.”

.

The show is running as smoothly as it ever does and MacKenzie makes a mental note to take the staff out for drinks. Another night, of course. Tonight she is going home with Will as soon as the broadcast ends. They haven’t discussed it but she doubts he’ll mind. 

“That was good, Billy,” she says into her headset at the first commercial break. She’s positive he blushes. “Three-thirty back.”

The door opens and Mac smiles at Don as he comes to stand with her. 

“How’s it going?” 

“Jim did a really good job,” she tells him, her pride outweighing her embarrassment. “Maybe I should let him take the reins more often.”

“I have never seen anyone as stressed as he was today. Maybe ease him into it,” Don advises with a laugh. 

Mac laughs too, turns back to the monitor, only to see the studio is empty. 

“Where the fuck is Will?” She holds down the button on her handset, praying he’s still in range. “Will? Where the fuck are you? You’re back on in two-“

“Hey.”

Mac whirls around at Will’s voice, bewilderment clear on her face and says, as sweetly as she can, “Can you please get back in the fucking studio?”

“Yeah, sure.” He sounds eerily calm and she’s beginning to wonder if he’s losing it, if she’ll have to disregard everything that’s happened today on account of Will losing his goddamn mind. He pulls something out his pocket, can’t seem to decide if he’s going to hand it to her or not. “I just wanted to give you this. Make it official, you know?”

“What is - _oh_.”

It’s the ring. _Her_ ring. Her perfect ring. And she can’t find the words, but that doesn’t seem to matter because Will slides the ring onto her finger anyway, holds her hand up to admire it. “Looks good,” he says softly, eyes crinkled at the side. And all Mac can do is nod before he pulls her against him, his mouth finding hers easily, his hands firmly cupping her face. 

“Thirty back,” Herb warns, trying and failing to mask a smirk. 

And that seems to get through to Mac because she pulls away and pushes Will towards the door, even though she’s not quite ready to let go of him. 

“Thirty back,” she says around the lump in her throat, tears threatening to spill from her eyes. “I swear to God if you’re not back in that chair-“

Will rolls his eyes, squeezes her hand before letting go. 

“Love you too, Honey.”

He pauses briefly at the door, only to smile fondly at her, and then he is gone. 

Mac turns back to the monitors, aware that she is still smiling like an idiot. Also very aware of the fact that she isn’t being very subtle about admiring her ring. Whatever, it’s a fucking amazing (if not slightly over the top, but that’s Will for you) ring and the weight of it on her finger reminds her that this is all real, that Will loves her too, that they’re getting married. 

“Okay,” Don drawls, throwing his hands up in the air in an over-exaggerated shrug. “I’m gonna go find Sloan.”

“Good luck,” she calls after him before turning back to the monitors (and her ring).

They cut to a pre-recorded interview a couple of minutes later and MacKenzie turns to the report Jim has just handed her regarding the next segment. 

“MacKenzie?” Will’s voice comes through to the control room. 

“Hmm?” She doesn’t look up, points out something to Jim who haphazardly highlights a section of the report. “Thirty back,” she adds absentmindedly. 

“Okay. Do you want to get dinner after the show?”

Now she looks up. Will is shuffling nervously at the anchor desk, hands fidgeting with the papers in front of him. Jim looks up too, surprised. And MacKenzie wonders if Don and Sloan had actually managed to keep a secret between them or if Jim is just oblivious. Considering he has yet to notice the very large diamond on her ring finger, she’s not quite sure which it is. 

Will clears his throat slightly and Mac swears her heart grows three sizes. He’s nervous, which is ridiculously endearing. He literally proposed to her this afternoon and he’s worried she’ll say no to dinner? _Idiot_ , she thinks fondly, smiling even though he can’t see her. 

“Ten back,” she warns. Then: “I would love to get dinner with you, Will.”

He’s still smiling when they cut back to him.


End file.
